Tomorrow is the 7th anniversary of when El Jefe and I started building our own little kingdom.  Yes, it’s true.  Seven Years.

The seventh year always seemed like a big year. Perhaps it’s all the mystique that surrounds the number seven, but whenever I  heard someone say they were celebrating their seventh anniversary I always thought, “Wow, that’s a long time.”  I never thought that with the sixth anniversary.  Tell me you’re celebrating your sixth and I’ll say, “Congratulations” and think you’re still getting to know each other.  Tell me you’re celebrating your eighth, and I’ll say “Congratulations” and think you’re old pros.  So, the seventh year is the transition year I suppose.

So, tomorrow, I officially lose my status as a newlywed.

That’s right.  We have been newlyweds with two kids (it’s my blog, I can say what I want).  We are on to a new phase of our marriage……what is it?  I don’t know, I’ll come up with it later.

Throughout these seven years we’ve seen the good and the bad.  We know each others’ strengths and weaknesses.  Having kids brought out new qualities that not only surprised each other but ourselves, too.

Just for fun, early in our marriage, we started coming up with Super Hero names for each other.    As our kids came along, we came up with some Super Hero names for them, too.  The final ones that stuck are as follows:

El Jefe = Captain Sarcastic

La= Demando

Chunk #1 = Spastic Fantastic

Chunk #2 = The Screech

We think we’re cute and funny, but awhile back I realized what we were doing.  These aren’t Hero names.  These are Villain names (insert dramatic music here). We’ve been highlighting our negative qualities .   El Jefe is good with a zinger.  Apparently, I can be pretty demanding.  Chunk #1 every now and then just freaks out on us (admittedly, “Spastic Fantastic” could have a positive twist but most of the time, it doesn’t).  Chunk #2’s voice can hit just the right decibel when she wants to.  There you have it. Bad family relationships 101 = highlight the negatives.

So, it’s been 7 years, and we are on to a new era. It is the era of the Heroes!  Yes, there it is, the next phase of our marriage……something….about….heroes?  I don’t know, I’m still focusing on how we’re no longer newlyweds.

I’d like to introduce some new hero names:

El Jefe = Mr. Moxie

La = Au Naturel

Chunk #1 = The Super Snuggler

Chunk #2 = Gigglicious

I don’t need to explain these….but I think I need to change mine.  It sounds dirty.

Anywhooooooo,  I don’t know if these will stick.  Just trying them on for size, but you get the idea: Accentuate the Positive.

This message brought to you by the A-Team

Chunk#1!!!!!!!

I  went to “UP” with my family. It was fun. We had a great time. We ate popcorn and drank Sprite.

I liked the collar on the dog that could talk. You could hear what the dog said. It was funny.

I didn’t like where the guy was going to kill the other guy. It was a little scary.

Chunk #2 didn’t like the part where his house was floating up (editorial note: there were some parts that were a little intense for younger kids–Chunk #2 especially–in fact, the rating was PG for “peril”.  You can imagine there were many potential scenes with a floating house where people could have fallen, etc. Chunk #2 didn’t like this and was crying in certain scenes). “My um, uh, scary part of that movie was when their house was floating up with lots and lots of balloons. Was it okay, dad? Was it okay?”

“My favorite part of the day was the dog collar with a red thing that would speak.”

Funny parts (Chunk #1): “The part where the bird named Kevin swallowed the old man’s cane.”

“I don’t want to say anything else.” –Chunk #1

So, the experiment in reviewing a movie with guest blogger fell on its face just a little bit–of course, we should have known this when he tired out while typing the first sentence (he insisted on doing everything himself). And, when it comes right down to it, the kids didn’t have much to say about the movie, but they liked it very much. Mom and Dad enjoyed the movie immensely–it WAS intense in some scenes, it was moving in others, and the storyline was very unexpected (that being said, can you ever really guess from a Pixar trailer what the movie is going to be like? I remember distinctly NOT wanting to go see “Cars”, but once having seen it, liking it just as much or more than the other Pixar movies).

Mamacheetah says: “Hilarious. I want to make my own ‘adventure book’ now.”

So….that’s about it from us. Don’t know if this review is helpful in any way, but you should see the movie. Maybe even wait until it hits the dollar movie (next summer?)–we’re finding that it’s not really possible for a family of four to see a movie and eat popcorn and a soda on a budget….

but instead of waking up with that pure excitement of “Yay, one more day!” and then joyfully skipping out the door, I woke up to the sound of a moan and then the splatter of barf on my bedroom carpet.

Poor kid.

SLC, December, 2000.

The snow has not fallen yet, but the night is good and chilly, possessing the silence that only comes with Winter.  Drifting through the streets, I look up and down, trying to decide  between sidewalk and sky.  The air grabs my senses.  It is infused with mountains and trees and I wonder how the Rockies manage so easily to tiptoe through these man-made structures, almost unnoticed.  The sidewalks are empty.  They are cracked with Time but their speckles and lines lead me from one squared out slab to the next, some more crumbly than others. I look forward and see faint reflections where the dewy air meets asphalt. Their combination creates an inviting, shiny glaze.  Together, they say,  “Come, keep walking, it’s a beautiful night.”

My mother is an amazing woman.  Not only was she an air hostess in the 50’s, but she was an LDS missionary in the Tongan islands.  Later, she married an incredible man and had ten kids.  She often says she is grateful to my father for letting her have ten kids.  It used to bother me when she would say that.  He “let” you?  You should be able to have as many kids as you want.  It never occurred to me that most men would say “enough already!”  Thankfully he didn’t say that since I am, after all,  number ten. She now has 5 daughters-in-law, 5 sons-in-law, and 44 grandkids with 2 on the way.  All of us owe so much to this singular woman.   She is our rock.  “She is more precious than rubies: and all the things thou canst desire are not to be compared unto her.”  (Proverbs 3:15)

When she had this picture taken, did she have any idea what lay before her?  That she would soon meet the love of her life?  That she would get a brief adventure in Japan?  That she would soon have five children in the space of five years (or something close to it) and then five more?  That she would demonstrate the utmost patience while raising 9 children in a three bedroom house until the dream house was finished? Did she know what a wonderful kingdom she would build?  Did she know how many people she would influence and who, in turn,  would have incredible respect for her?

No, she had no idea.  And I think she still likes to downplay her place in this world.  But while those of you who know her, reflect on what a wonderful woman she, just look at that beautiful face.

I’ve been going through some of our old pictures and trying to organize them.  It’s funny how, when you look at different stages of your life,  old feelings and emotions seem to tickle the back of your brain and say “remember?”

I love this picture, but when I think my state of mind during that time period, I cringe. I don’t like to dwell on it too much because I have since come a long way.  I know that on one hand I felt  gratitude and relief because I was blessed with a fat and happy little boy.  But on the other hand, I was still filled with doubt and fear that seemed to sweep upon me the first time I held this boy in my arms.  Motherhood was a difficult transition for me because I just  really wanted to do it right.  But the responsibility was daunting and I didn’t quite “cowgirl up” at the beginning of this journey.

Each time I became a new mother, I grew a whole new heart.   That first heart?  I resented it a bit.  Not the boy.  No, I did not resent him.  I resented all the new emotions and fears that came with him.  I saw the world in a different light but I was focusing on what a scary place it can be.  I didn’t remind myself of the protection I could be.  Instead I felt weak and overwhelmed and scared.

I have sobered up since then.  I now choose Strength over weakness, Love over fear, and Faith over doubt.  It is also good to remember where we can turn to for strength  when we feel weak as a mother or worried about our children.  I love this quote by Abraham Lincoln: “I remember my mother’s prayers and they have always followed me.  They have clung to me all my life.”

So, this fat one volunteered to be my first guinea pig.  He has taught me much.  And I hope my prayers cling to him throughout his life.

I only have one thing to say about today.

I feel like shaving my head.

Not gonna do it.

Just sayin’.

So, it turns out, I am a control freak.  I didn’t know this until I became a parent.  Because of this, as I have raised my children, I have lived with some conflicting ideals:

A) Raise my children to be self-sufficient and independent adults

B) Avoid messes  as much as possible.

Ideal A is something that all parents want.  We all want happy, well adjusted children who are capable of making positive contributions.  And I wanted it, in theory.  Ideal B isn’t necessarily  a goal I have written out in my plan for my children, rather, as I live day to day it seems to pop up in my mental list of desires for the here and now.  Presently, these two ideals conflict.  As I’m writing this, I realize it is more complicated than being a Type A personality….because, ahem, I am NOT a Type A personality.  I think it’s because of all the renovation we’ve done on the house. Yes, that’s it,  living in chaos (aka renovation) has increased my control freakiness.  Make sense?  Don’t matter, it’s true.

All right, that being said, here I was wanting independent, capable children, yet I was hindering them because I want to seriously control the amount of messes made in my house/environment.  I wasn’t letting my children “Take risks and make messes!” (Thank you Miss Frizzle).  This was especially in the kitchen, as my sanity was hanging in the balance, I couldn’t always let my kids help me with simple meals because my sub-conscience was stressing about the box of kitchen tools or the corner of piled up pantry items because I was waiting on cabinets, drawers, etc….  It felt like it was a game of Jenga

(I do not intend to sound bitter. I hope I don’t.  If you would have asked me about a month ago, perhaps I would have had a hint of bitterness.  But now I’m not and I don’t plan on looking back.  This has been my choice of living and though the process be slow, I am happy where I am and what we’re doing to this wonderful home.)

Man, I digress.

So, I’ve been the kind of parent that would like my children to learn for themselves but I haven’t allowed as much “hands on” moments because I want to control it all.

Then I discovered this lovely book.  It is called The Parenting Breakthrough.  

My friend showed me a page where it outlines what kind of chores/duties a child should be able to perform at each age. Call them benchmarks if you like.

For example, a 3 year old should be able to dress himself/herself (check).  A 4 year old should make the bed (check).  Then I read that a 4 year old should be able to make a sandwich (hmmm) and make his/her own breakfast (never thought of that).  A 5 year old should be able to vacuum (that’s not a bad idea). A  5 year old should also: straighten room, empty garbage cans, set table, clear table make own lunch, warm up canned food, and get allowance.  Now, obviously every child is different but I realized I didn’t have many expectations for my children and it was ok to create some.  The book addresses the fact that these things help give a child a positive self image and lead to being able to handle bigger issues in life.

So, for the last six months or so, I have been slowly releasing my grip.  Yes, I have, even in the kitchen.

The other night when Chunk #1 wanted to make his own own five-layer dip, instead of saying “That’s ok, I’ll do it”, we got out his ingredients and he put it together (pat me on the back, pat him on the back).  I even took the opportunity to teach him how to use the can opener. This may seem like an insignificant event but I am realizing that these are opportunities where I can contribute to my child’s sense of self.  I am showing him that he is capable.  If I constantly say “That’s ok, I’ll do it,”  then what am I teaching him?  Not only that, it was  a Pampered Chef can opener.  There are grown men that still can’t figure out that contraption… but I digress.

I suppose this is important to me because I don’t want to hear him say “I can’t do that” even before he even tries.  When I was first introduced to this book it was a lightbulb moment.  But the epiphany hit me again as I watched him plan out his 5 layer dip (Yes, five.  It has to be five.  Next year it will be six, I’m sure.)

He was so excited to just create it. He loved being able to decide for himself what ingredients to use.  Then,  he let me know the order of each layer and how good it was going to be.  He looked forward to sharing it with everyone.  He wanted everyone to eat it and love it.

He is growing up and I’m letting him (again, pat me on the back, pat him on the back).

Here were his other comments while making it:

“Ooooh this is going to be so yuMMy!”

“[Chunk #2] when this is done, you can have some ok?  If it’s not good, then you won’t want to eat it, ok?”

Oh, and my favorite,  “Can I lick this?”

When it was done he did what his own mommy does when she makes something yummy: “MM! (sharp and high pitched)  This is so good!”  and then he danced around the kitchen with chip in hand.

This blog has been brought to you by Pace Picante Salsa.

(What is that on my floor?  It looks like toilet paper but I know it’s not!)

At the beginning of this month, my wonderful niece got married. As I sat through her wedding and all the festivities, I could not get over

a) how beautiful she looked,

and,

b) how incredibly happy she was.

Actually, I got a little bit emotional, and I couldn’t figure out why. Perhaps it was because I knew it was a long journey for her and she wanted to make the right decision. Perhaps it was because I could see that she was sure about her decision. Perhaps it was because the white dress suited her. Perhaps it was because I knew she was going on to a wonderful new adventure.

It was mentioned that, when two people get married, you are not just starting a family, you are building a kingdom. Here’s just a small part of my parent’s kingdom at Chelsea’s wedding. Wow.

They got married almost 50 years ago. What will Chelsea’s and Brandon’s Kingdom look like in 50 years?

So, since the party earlier this month, I have been thinking about Marriage. I’ve met some girls who think that they will only be happy once they reach their wedding date, that all their troubles will be over. That’s a nice thought, but so unrealistic.  The fact is, once you get married, you drop off your bag of “single-life troubles” and pick up a new bag: the “married-life bag”. Your troubles aren’t over, you just get new ones, different ones. But, to match those you get new joys and different joys. Just like anything else in life, it has its contrasts. It is wonderful, but it’s not the end of your troubles.

As much as I love a good “happily ever after” story, I don’t like that most of them just end with the princess getting married. It’s not the end. After the wedding, there is a whole new story to tell. It’s definitely a step towards “happily ever after”, but it certainly isn’t the end.

Today I was reminded of this: God gives us families to make us be a better version of ourselves.

And yet, since I started my own little family, I have my days where I am the worst version of myself.

The mountains and valleys I encounter seem to be higher and lower than any other part of my life. Marriage and motherhood are a refiners fire, forcing me through the worst versions of myself to find the better version. And in this refiners fire is also my husband and children for whom I am so grateful.

I’m so grateful that my hubby will still be my friend even after I’ve gotten mad at him. He knows it totally bugs me that he can crack a joke and make me laugh after I’ve been grumpy or annoyed. Sometimes I don’t like that he gets away with it (let me be grumpy why don’tcha!), but I adore him for putting up with me long enough to know that he can get a laugh out of me.

I’m so grateful that my children are so forgiving after I’ve lost my patience. They still give me a hug at the end of the day. They still want a story or to just snuggle. Somehow they have the power to create moments where they make me stop, look, and see that I’m incredibly in love with them.

Chelsea’s wedding brought out a lot of emotions in me. I’ve thought of my own journey since mine and El Jefe’s wedding date, and how absolutely wonderful and crazy it has been.

So, after these two left…

…I was happy for them. I cried a little, because from here on out it’s a new journey towards the “happily ever after” ending. And it is such a fun and crazy adventure.